


Your Hand In Mine

by Bluejay141519



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: 5+1 Things, M/M, Relationship Study, Soft Boys, mentions of a few stars, technically a prompt fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 00:52:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18377585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluejay141519/pseuds/Bluejay141519
Summary: Marchy's laugh was the first thing he fell in love with.





	Your Hand In Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Title is a song from Explosions In The Sky, I HIGHLY encourage anyone who has a few mins to listen to it bc it’s awesome. 
> 
> This...cute? idk ive never done NOT angst before.

 

 

**1**

 

His laughter was the first thing Patrice fell in love with.

 

The way it crackles and carried distance, how it rose and fell with each breath he struggles in, because when he laughs, and he laughs hard, it’s so much so that he struggles to breathe.

 

When it’s something small, or goofy, or simple, then the laugh that he hears is easy but noticeable, powerful but short.

 

The first time he heard it, it surprised Patrice with how bright it was. They were in the Garden, on the ice, so many years ago, and Patrice had muttered something about the drill they were doing, and then he heard that sound, that bright, melodious sound that felt like a ray of sunshine into his soul.

 

Of all the things that he loved about him, Brad Marchand’s laugh was maybe his favorite. But then the first things usually are.

 

It’s why he loves it so much when he wakes up to the soft giggle in his ear, or the loud raucous cackle in the kitchen as he burns the pancakes. Again.

 

“Stop setting things on fire.” He mumbles, and sure enough there’s a soft murmur of a laugh right next to him. It’s just barely a chuckle, really, but he feels it through his back, and a few things stop lining up correctly in his brain. He makes a soft noise, scrunching his eyes together as he realizes he was asleep.

 

Brad pulls his fingers softly through his hair in a rhythmic motion, and he hears The Santa Clause still playing, so must not have been out that long, although he’s basically curled on Marchys lap, head pillowed on his shoulder.

 

He blinks slowly, the brightly lit Christmas tree swimming into view. Brad dips his head to plant a kiss in Bergy’s hair, quite a feat considering how much taller he is normally.

 

“Go back to sleep babe.” Brad whispers, curling his fingers through his hair with a little more pressure that has his eyes dropping with their own will.

 

“Love you.” He mumbles back, because he does, he does with every space in his heart, and he wants Marchy to know how much he does, but he’s warm and comfortable and happy, and his brain is very quickly sliding back into sleep.

 

Before he falls into the comforting darkness however, he hears that giggle again, followed by a “I love you too, Patrice Bergeron”, and his chest feels so light it might explode with the bursts of warmth and affection the sound elicits.

 

He first fell in love with Marchands laugh. But here, warm in safe in his fiancés arms, he knows he loves all of him.

  


**2**

  


His smile was the second.

 

It was rare, at first. Unsure of everyone, unsure of _Patrice_ , because Patrice was quiet, a listener rather than a sharer, and Brad couldn’t read him. It’s scary, when you’ve got something to hide, and you can’t read someone. If you can’t establish a baseline of behavior on someone, then how would you know when they start acting weird?

 

It didn't take long though, and slowly they established a happy and simple work relationship, which moves to a friendship, which moves to best friends, and then one night, when Brad was smiling so wide and so happy, laughing as he beat Patrice in cards yet again, Patrice understood it.

 

His smile wasn’t especially contagious. It didn’t light up a room, it wasn’t something so especially unique people were jealous of it.

 

You had to _know_ Brad to see what it did. It didn’t light up a room, it lit up _him_. It made something in Patrice loosen, made him take a breath and feel okay just to exist. His smile could be gentle, and teasing, and cheeky, and sad even, but it always felt like it was beautiful to those he showed it too. His real smile. Not his media smile.

 

He’d seen it in all forms by now, every face he’s got, but it still hurt Patrice to see him showing that fake grin to the Boston media, watching as they ate it up while he was stuck looking at the cracks underneath.

 

His favorite smile though, is the one Brad gives Patrice when they’re in bed at night, or sitting around after a game, both tired and weary. Patrice will be sitting there, and the back of his neck will prick, and he’ll turn to see Marchy looking at him. They meet eyes, and Brad will just give him a small one, soft and precious and secretive, made only for Patrice.

 

It’s something so small to anyone else, but to him, it’s one of his proudest accomplishments. That he is trusted with that- with this side of Brad- is something he’s never going to undervalue.

  


**3**

  


The third thing was his loyalty.

 

He might’ve put this higher on the list, but at first, he _didn’t_ love this part of Brad.

 

He didn’t hate, either, but he didn’t like it.

 

It scared him to see how much Marchy would put on the line for other people. How much he would risk for his teammates, his friends, for _Patrice_ , it was terrifying.

 

It made him uncomfortable at first, when Brad would say things to the media, say “ _No one touches Bergy”._ It made him uncomfortable because he was scared.

 

It’s a lot of power, to hold someone’s loyalty. It’s a lot of responsibility. He didn’t think he deserved that.

 

He was sure it would hurt them. He was sure, so sure, that he would hurt Brad. He didn’t have all the answers. Most of the time he was wrong, or floundering in the dark, just trying to do his best. Putting trust in someone who doesn’t have a clue to what they’re doing is prettying fucking stupid.

 

(It was going to hurt him.)

 

Even if Bergy wasn’t the one who did it, someone would. Brad trusted to much, to easy. He liked people first, and lost trust after.

 

Everyone else Patrice knew, himself included, did the opposite. Be nice but wary, and wait, wait, wait to trust. Expect to be let down. Open slowly and carefully.

 

So it- it scared him. Partly because he didn’t want to hurt Brad. And partly because he didn’t want him hurt by anyone else.

 

Brad said what he thought, and he smiled and laughed just as easily as he breathed. He didn’t hesitate to fight, didn’t hesitate to take penalties, _didn’t hesitate_ to take the fall so his team could rise.

 

It was dangerous.

 

But it was also...endearing. Or- flattering?

 

There was some emotion tied to it. A lot of emotion.

 

As much as he was afraid of having someone loyal to him, he cherished it. It made him feel like he was worth something, and like he was doing something very right.

 

It gave him confidence.

 

So slowly that confidence morphed the fear into sureness, until he was able to believe that he deserved what Brad gave him.

 

He still worries about it, still thinks it’s stupid and naive, but now he sees how brave Marchy is to trust people like that.

 

He sees that Brad knows how badly he can get hurt. He sees it when he chooses his friends, sees it in the pain in his eyes when he speaks about things you wouldn’t expect him to know.

 

He’s been hurt by that unending loyalty, but he gives it anyway, because it’s how he cares.

 

Patrice has never wanted Brad to change.

 

(It still scares him.)

  


**4**

  


The fourth thing, which ties in very closely into the third, was his selflessness.

 

Brad Marchand, for all that he pretended not to be, was actually very smart.

 

Socially, anyway. He knows how to fix things. Every situation, every hole in the conversation, everywhere that it should be awkward but was not, he was there. He knows where there should be silence. He knows when there should be quiet and when there should be nois.

 

He knows a very common but overlooked rule of human interaction.

 

Attention is like a spotlight. People only see what’s illuminated, not what’s in the shadows around it.

 

This took a while for Patrice to notice, because Brad does it so well, and because Brad needed a little time to be able to read Patrice.

 

Once he did though...

 

Well. It took Patrice longer.

 

One of Marchands many skills was the ability to make a room feel full.

 

People who look in from the outside call him an attention seeker. They call him conceited and vain, because they fall for the trap that he sets for them.

 

 _Attention is a spotlight_.

 

If the spotlight is on Brad, then it’s _not_ on other people. It’s not on Pasta who had a subpar game, it’s not on Charlie who hasn’t gotten a good night's sleep in days, it’s not on Jake whose turnover cost them a goal.

 

It’s not on anyone but who he wants it to be, and so it’s always on him. He takes attention off other people, shows himself to the world so that his teammates might have a second of peace.

 

Patrice didn’t know this was a thing until he had a bad game (a horrible, disgusting, not even good enough for juniors, shit pile of a game) and Brad took one look at him, then in the locker room there’s maybe a few reporters around his stall, all ones that actually ask real, meaningful questions, not fishing for a single quote to drag him through the dirt with.

 

And it- it happens. It happens a lot. Just as he’s loyal to his teammates, he cares about them too, and that means he sacrifices what he wants to help them.

 

His loyalty extends further than the ice, further than the media. He gives up so much to help others.

 

Bergy worries, because of course he does. He sees how easy it would be to take advantage of that, to _use_ that.

 

(Ironically, it was the same thing he used to worry about when Segs was on the team, the kid too bright, too eager, and too worried about other people. He never focused on himself, and it almost-

 

Well. Bergy couldn’t help him, but apparently Benn could.)

 

This part of Marchy, Bergy fell for rather quickly. He just didn’t know he loved it until he saw how often it happened, and he saw how much it helped their team.

 

He also sort of hated it sometimes, because Brad was _so_ selfless and cares _so_ much that sometimes it felt like he left nothing for himself.

 

Bergy decided in the first moment he realized he held Brads loyalty, that he would be there when that happened. He knew that was his responsibility.

 

He never took it lightly. He always, always made sure Brad had someone in his corner. Even if it couldn’t be him, he made sure.

 

“ _Take care of Marchy while I’m not there okay?”_

 

_“Make sure March doesn’t over do it alright-”_

 

_“Zee I know you hate doing it but if you could make sure the idiot doesn’t get arrested this weekend that would be great-”_

 

_“Just make sure he’s alright.”_

 

And this team-

 

-it could’ve been hell, if it was somewhere else, but _this_ team-

 

-this team always, always responded with “ _its alright Bergy, we got him_ ”.

 

He doesn’t know how he got so lucky.

  


**5**

  


The fifth thing- if there is a fifth thing, because it’s not like he makes a list really, just that he knows his laughter was the first and his smile the second, and his loyalty and selflessness were important but took longer - the fifth thing, is _gentle_.

 

It’s sort of broad, just the term, but it’s the best thing he can find to describe it.

 

When he wakes up alone on the couch, the blanket getting draped over him is soft, the touches are small and the fingers that trail through his hair are gentle.

 

The kiss he gets on his forehead is gentle.

 

The hugs in the morning are softened with sleep and varying degrees of awakeness. Brads hair is a mess, and it tickles his nose and smells like shampoo and woods after a hard rain. Bergy holds him and they breath, and those moments, they’re gentle.

 

There’s a lot of hard edges in their lives. A lot of sharp, angry moments and chaotic periods where everything seems wrong and nothing they do seems right. There’s a lot that hurts, and a lot that don’t like, but have to do anyway.

 

There’s a lot.

 

But through it all, no matter what, the way Brad loves him, is gentle.

 

For all the loud, cheeky chaos that he is, when he’s with Bergy, Brad is quiet. He’s calm, and he’s softer at the edges.

 

It’s like he’s a light that’s too bright for anyone to really look at, but when he’s with Patrice, he dims just enough for someone to be able to look, and by god, Patrice looks.

 

He stares in awe most of the time. It’s just- to be able to see Marchy like that? To see him for all that he is, all the insecurities and fears and bad parts mixing so easily with the good-

 

It’s a honor. He’s sure.

 

(It’s a lot of trust too. He’s alright with that. Doesn’t take it lightly.)

 

Patrice knows that he loves Brad differently. His love is something wild, something fierce and aggressive. He knows that people think that it would be opposite: Bergy loving softly, Brad loving distinctly, but it’s not.

 

Brad loves him gently, because he knows it’s what Patrice needs. He knows it’s how they work. He knows he can be whatever he needs to be around Bergy, and Bergy knows he can do the same.

 

And so it goes, tiny touches in the locker room and leg pats on the bench and small indulgent smiles and slow, deep breathes. Small things. Easy things. Intimate things, to no one but themselves.

 

 _Gentle, gentle, gentle_ for a love so volatile it can explode at the slightest aggression.

 

He loves Brad, loves him maybe more than anything he’s ever loved. He loves every part of him, the good and the bad, the surface and the things buried.

  


**_+_ ** **1**

  


Brad is only loyal to the good ones.

 

Sometimes it’s hard to figure out which fall into that category, but he’s had enough practice. He’s made enough mistakes. He’s learned.

 

This team has a lot of good ones. He likes that, because it makes his life easier. He trusts blindly, he knows. He’s gotten hurt enough, been broken enough times, asked himself ‘ _why, why are you like this_ ’, and every time he ends up doing it again.

 

It’s just him. It’s just who he is, and while he’s learned how to try and protect his heart, he’s never going to close it. Never going to go cold like he’s seen so many do. He will do what he can for those who deserve it, because it seems no one else will.

 

Patrice wasn’t the first.

 

(He might’ve been, if Brad had been smart enough to notice it. But the first was Tyler, and it would always be Tyler, because he remembers how desperately he wanted to help him, and how devastated he was when he just succeeded in making it worse.)

 

He took an immediate and close second though, because Patrice thinks he’s not worthy of so many things, and Brad has always wanted to change that, so he did what everyone else thought hockey had lost, and he pledged his loyalty to this team, to his captain, and to his A, who he’s loved for so long he can’t remember a time where he didn’t.

 

Bergy worries.

 

He worries, and he grumbles, and he _frets_ which as comical as it is annoying.

 

Because as loyal Brad is, Patrice is protective.

 

It might be the first thing he ever loved about him.

 

 **_Fin_ **.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Originally started as a promptfill for 'laughter' that my wonderful friend blindbattleaxe gave me. Hope you enjoyed the continuation!


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